The Poker Game
by Defenestrate Death
Summary: COMPLETE! Nice pack of muggle playing cards: one galleon. Winning at poker: 50 galleons. Making Malfoy look as dignified and jovial as a drowning cat: priceless.
1. Of Cards and Bets

**Disclaimer: **Hate to disappoint you, but I'm not actually JK Rowling. I know. It's a shocker. So all I own is the plot. Yep.

**A/N: **This is my first story, so criticism is very welcome, but please be specific so I can (hopefully) improve.

**The Poker Game**

DRACO'S POV

Thank Merlin! Sweet, sweet victory at _last_. I smirk at the cards I've been dealt. After three consecutive losses, which have landed me fifty galleons down, Lady Luck has finally seen fit to grace me with her presence. Take that Granger! Huh. She probably thought she was _so_ smart, beating me at this stupid muggle 'card game'…who entertains themselves with little pieces of paper anyway? I mean, come on, it is sort of pathetic. I can't believe that Dumbledore made me take this class anyway. Advanced Muggle Studies? When will I ever _need _this stuff?

At this point my internal diatribe is interrupted as I realize that Hermione is looking at me expectantly. Damn. What am I supposed to be doing? Oh. Right.

"I don't need any cards." My smirk grows to frightening proportions as I contemplate my imminent victory. To my surprise Hermione remains unaffected by my Evil Smirk, simply raising one eyebrow condescendingly and then turning to the deck to deal herself two cards.

"The dealer will take two cards." As if I can't count the number of cards she picked up. How stupid does she think I am? Moreover, how can she not be intimidated by my Evil Smirk? Evil Smirks are a highly underappreciated art form. I had to work on my Evil Smirk for years, finding the perfect ratio of evil menace and sly sexiness such that I could appropriately awe and alarm any victim. So why isn't she awed and alarmed damnit? If she had any common decency she would be awed and…damnit, why is she looking at me again?

HERMIONE'S POV

Poor guy. He clearly is not meant for poker. At the very least the term 'poker face' means nothing to him---I haven't seen anyone grin like that since Fred and George wallpapered Snape's classroom in pretty pink bows and dancing unicorns. Of course they stopped grinning and started running pretty quickly, while my unfortunate poker partner is still unwise enough to be sitting across from me grinning—oh excuse me, I suppose he'd prefer _smirking_—maniacally. He seems to be under the impression that if he just smirks a little harder I'll begin to cower. Poor, delusional boy.

While his mouth is twitching under the exertion of maintaining rather impressive smirk for several minutes running, his eyes seem oddly vacant. What was it with him and spacing out? Pointed stares seem to accomplish nothing with him. Although frankly I don't mind as he certainly isn't hard on the eyes. I'm woman enough to admit it—he's a First Class Bad Ass Hottie. Of course, the pivotal word that most people skim over in that evaluation is 'Ass'. While he has been less of a nuisance since Voldemort fell—and I should say on his behalf that Draco did remain faithful to the Order during the War—he still has some serious attitude issues. Which is why I feel no compunction at cleaning him out during these poker games. He can afford it anyway. And I really, _really_ want that glowing scarlet dress I saw in Diagon Alley. I mean, it _glows_! I haven't told anyone about it as I'd have never hear the end of it if everyone found out that The Hermione Granger covets something non-book related. Good God the Horror (note the sarcasm).

Why isn't Draco betting yet? Perhaps it is time to fix him with the McGonagal Stare. It never fails. God Bless that lady. Maha! The McGonagall Stare strikes again! Beware all who oppose Hermione Granger! Woot.

DRACO'S POV

Right. Betting. That's what I'm supposed to be doing.

"I'll bet ten galleons." A substantial starting bet. She continues staring at me evenly. Does nothing unnerve her?

"I'll meet your ten and raise you five." Shit! Does that mean she has a good hand? Surely not better than mine. Surely. But why is she raising this much? I only have another six galleons on me as I spent the rest of my monthly allowance on a magical alarm clock which dispatches the illusion of a frog doing stunts on a broom while singing "It Sucks To Be Me". I don't regret the purchase (how could I?), but I can tell that having no money whilst in the midst of a poker game is bad—very, very bad.

"I'll meet your five and raise you one." Please back down, fold or whatever. Please?! Clearly she is not listening to my silent pleading. Damn.

"I'll meet your one," She pauses and I try not to be intimidated by her raised eyebrow which seemed to say 'Oh, is that all you can do? What a pity…' Damnit. I'm the Evil Slytherin Prince here, not her. I should be intimidating her, not the other way around. I will not be intimidated! I will not be intimidated, I will not be intimidated….Why isn't this working? Is she still talking? Damn.

"And I'll raise you another five…oh wait, do you have any money left? If you don't we could just leave off. I suppose three and a half games is really enough for Professor Vir." The look in her eyes says something entirely different however. She's challenging me. Seeing as I have no money I can't fathom what she hopes to get out of it, except perhaps to humiliate me for all the times I made her life hell, but ultimately her motives make no difference to me. After all when have I, Draco Malfoy, ever backed down from a challenge? Well, except that once, but that doesn't count because no one in their right mind takes on a pissed Elmo.

HERMIONE'S POV

Damn but I'm good. People don't see me as being cunning because I'm always talking so it's generally assumed that there's nothing in my mind besides the arbitrary streams of useless information that I constantly spout. How easily misled people are.

Hehe. Draco wouldn't even see it coming. My plan was so beautifully cunning and cruel and...damn but I'm good. To his credit he isn't completely unsuspecting as he looks down at me through icy eyes, but I can tell he's going to continue.

"So how do I stay in without any money?" Yes! Score for Hermione! Now to reel him in…

"How about we make it interesting. I put all the money that I've made in these games back in the pot. But if I win you owe me a favor that I will make known to you after I win. Sound good?" I am barely able to keep the anticipation off of my face.

"Alright, that sounds fair. So long as the favor wouldn't land me with Madame Pomfrey." Stupid sod! Will these Slytherins never learn? They cannot compete with me! I'm just too damn clever for them. Woot!

"Nope, no danger of that." I respond, voice cool and controlled. I hope. "So, shall we lay down the cards?" A superior smile (which I'm pretty sure I've patented) slides onto his face as he lays down his cards.

"Read 'em and weep. All reds."

READ AND REVIEW!! Please?!


	2. Of Muggle Dances and Minions

**The Poker Game**

AN: The disclaimer from the first chapter still applies...

DRACO'S POV

Why is she laughing? This can't be good. She shouldn't be laughing after losing fifty some galleons. _I _should be laughing at her. There plainly is something terribly wrong.

She's still laughing damn her. If I wasn't so worried about why she's laughing I might have noticed how cute she looks when she's genuinely amused. Her cheeks are all flushed as she gasps for breath between heaving laughs and her eyes seem to twinkle. Not like Dumbledore's innocent 'everything will be alright' twinkling; no, her cinnamon eyes twinkle with mischief and glee at suffering. My suffering to be exact. There is nothing reassuring in those eyes. But of course I notice none of this because I have bigger fish to fry. Damnit, did I pick that phrase up from her? It sounds muggle. I've clearly been spending far too much time with her in this class.

She's still laughing. Perhaps it is time to put a stop to this. Professor Vir's looking at me funny and it is getting plain awkward.

"Would care to explain exactly what is so amusing?" I ask her with infinite patience as I wait for her to cease her riotous cachinnating (A/N: isn't that such a cool word for laughing?) and get her breath back. Finally once she is once again capable of sitting upright in her chair she deigns to answer me.

"Draco, _dear_, in order to have a flush you have to have five cards of the same _suite_, not just the same color." At this point a fit of giggles overtakes her and it is all that she can do to lay her cards down. Four of the A's. This is _not_ good.

HERMIONE'S POV

Nice pack of muggle playing cards: one galleon. Winning at poker: 50 galleons. Making Malfoy look as dignified and jovial as a drowning cat: priceless.

As Malfoy stares at the four cards that spell out his doom I compose myself (mostly anyway, a grin keeps tugging at my cheeks and there is very little I can do to stop it.) and lean back in my chair to await his full attention. It soon becomes apparent that simply waiting for him to return from Lala Land won't work. So I unleash the McGonagall stare once again. Within thirty seconds he looks up from the cards, eyes apprehensive. I allow for a short dramatic pause before proceeding.

"Muggle Appreciation Day is approaching in one week and for that auspicious occasion I would like you to perform a very special muggle dance for the school. I would like you to perform…"

Oh the joy of evil spur-of-the-moment plots brought to fruition! He would have no choice but to follow my heinous orders. Mwahahaha!

I think I have been spending entirely too much time around Draco lately. Evil laughs are not supposed to come naturally to Gryffindor.

DRACO'S POV

"…the Macarena!" I look at her in horror. I have vastly underestimated her. Sweet, simple and bookish my ass! The girl must have been mis-sorted. This kind of cunning cruelty is not supposed to run in Gryffindor.

I feel the hand of impending doom grasping at my ankles. If I danced to the biggest mistake the muggle music industry ever made in front of the whole school, during some dorky Muggle Appreciation Day no less, well, I'd never live it down. Everyone would know in a matter of hours. Father would probably scream at me for hours about the honor of the family, Mother would just sit there weeping and looking at me balefully, Professor Snape would mock me mercilessly, and the Slytherine house would…dear sweet Merlin, I'd lose my minions for sure! How can minions respect and obey a man who has done the Macarena? It's completely impossible. Which is why you don't see Voldemort going around doing the chicken dance or some such nonsense. Its just not good policy.

There has to be a way out of this. I'm a Slytherin, I'm clever and sly, I can totally handle this situation. It would just require a little bit of…convincing. Yeah. I could put on the famous Malfoy charm and voila! No more Macarena. Ever.

"Hermione, come on. You're not this desperate to make me suffer. We've been working through our issues during this class; I know you don't hate me anymore. How about we just sit here and talk about something productive I could help you with…" Yeah. I could totally make this work. Hermione and me, we're tight. She wouldn't feed me to the wolves.

"If you like, we could look at this as further work on getting through our 'issues.' Me getting all of my negative feelings out by making you suffer. Just like a punching bag." I don't know what a punching bag is, but it doesn't sound like it has a happy existence. This isn't going to be as easy as I'd thought. But I can still salvage the situation. If I don't panic I'll be just fine.

"Yes, yes, of course humiliate me. That's fine. But doesn't the Macarena seem a bit extreme?"

"No." Damn. Reason clearly isn't going to work. Onto Plan B.

I grab my wand off the table and quickly mutter "_intraudi",_ a sound insulating spell, before I unleash my torture device. I begin to sing.

HERMIONE'S POV

Dear God, make it stop! Did he just go through seven key signatures in a matter of seconds? Is that possible? Well, clearly it is, but it shouldn't be. I think I now understand why Slytherins don't, as a rule, sing. Or why they only use it as a weapon when they're desperate.

Hands clasped over my ears I shout at Draco, "What did the Phantom ever do to you that you must mutilate his music of the night?!" A half second of glorious respite. Regret floods through me as I realize my mistake. He's now about three octaves above where he ought to be and singing "Toxic." I don't know or care where he learned these muggle songs, but I wish to God that he'd kept his pureblood prejudices rather than subject me to this. I only hold out another thirty seconds, thirty agony filled seconds, before I break down.

"Ok, ok, let's talk. Just PLEASE stop singing!'' Draco looks at me with that smart ass smirk and finishes the line he's on. Damn him.

"It's your own fault. You drove me to these measures. If you'd been _reasonable_ it never would have gotten as far as singing." Yeah, let's blame the victim. Sounds like a good plan to me.

"How about this as a plan: I give you another option for how you are to humiliate yourself, so you can choose between the Macarena and my equally humiliating second choice. That way you'll have an option at least."

"Why do I have to humiliate myself at all?"

"Because you made my life hell through sixth year and just made it hell again by singing. Because the world is inherently unfair. Because you make a splendid scapegoat. Because you lost. Pick whatever reason you want, it doesn't really matter why. All that really matters is that I have it in for you and you owe me." It feels really good to vent at Malfoy. I think I should do it more often.

"Am I going to be able to get out of this without some form of humiliation?"

"No."

"Fine then. Give me my second option." Hold on a tic…I don't have a second option yet…crap. Must stall…. (A/N: for the rest of the chapter italics are used for the ideas Hermione's coming up with for Malfoy's torture. It seemed less confusing to me after I visually separated out the multiple threads of thought)

"You do realize that this second option is going to be even worse than the Macarena. I mean next to this the Macarena looks like a pizza party." _Make him join SPEW? But then he'd take the credit for it's future successes. I know he would. _Draco's giving me a skeptical look. I think he suspects that this is just a bluff. Not good. Must stall better, must think of torture…

_Dye his hair pink? Nah, the girls would probably just say the color suited him. Stupid male slut…._

"No I mean it. This is the King of All Humiliations. You'll never be able to face anyone again." _Eh, sing the Tom Bombadil songs from LotR? Wait, I've heard him sing._ "It'll haunt you, a specter quietly reminding you of your past mistakes, for all of eternity!" _Make him start a random and unMalfoy club, like maybe, the Young Communists Club? No; knowing him he'd use it to catapult himself into a position as a fascist dictator._ He's not buying my stalling. And I still don't have a second idea. Crap. What can be worse than the Macarena? _Dress in drag for a week? Wait, wizard already wear 'robes' on a regular basis._

"You don't have a second option do you?" _Declare his undying love for….Snape? Ok, Eeeuuu…._

"That's fine, we could, you know, just forget all about—" _Declare his undying love for…macaroni and cheese?...the giant squid?...Elton John?..._

"Declare your undying love for me!" Did I just say that? Wait a minute, that's brilliant! If there's one thing worse than the Macarena this'd be it. He'll have to choose the Macarena. I am so….

"Fine." WHAT??!!!

Love it? Hate it? REVIEW IT! If nothing else, let me know that I'm not talking to myself here...I'm beginning to feel like I might be crazy.


	3. Of Love and Gossip Empires

**The Poker Game**

**Chapter 3: Of Love Declarations and Gossip Empresses**

**Disclaimer**: Ok, so obviously JK Rowling doesn't spend her free time writing stories about poker games with characters which have already made her a filthy rich. Stories which will never actually be published. I mean this is what _I_ would be doing if I was her, but hey, I'm not, so I don't own the characters. Just the plot.

**AN:** I'd like to thank all of my reviewers: you rock my world. By the way, I finished this at one in the morning and I think the review thingy at the end can be entirely blamed on that fact.

**EmeraldKiwi:** The thought about Draco and singing was that while it would be humiliating it would also beincedibly painful for allthe other innocents subjected to Draco's singing,and Hermione herself didn't want to ever have to hear him sing again.

* * *

DRACO'S POV

"You mean 'fine,' as in you'll do the Macarena?" Hermione's voice is steadily rising in pitch and I can't help but smirk.

"No, Granger-or I suppose I should say _Hermione _seeing as I'm _madly_ in love with you." I wink at her rakishly. "I mean 'fine' in the sense that I'll be supplying Hogwarts' underground Gossip Empire with enough fodder to last them a year."

Haha! Who's shocked and dismayed now? Score one for Draco. Of course Hermione has enough victories to ensure lasting domination of the Score Board of Life, but I feel I ought to enjoy my wins as they come. And this _is _a rather spectacular victory. Her mouth is still hanging agape.

That being the case I should probably get this over with before I start to think because panic will inevitably follow any thought process that doesn't involve gloating. I swiftly swish my wand and reverse the sound insulating charm.

Show time.

"Hermione I can't do this anymore." I look at her with what I hope is an earnest look (never my forte) while speaking in a stage whisper. "I can't stand living a **_lie_** like this. I don't understand why we have to keep it a **_secret_**, why can't we just tell everyone the _**truth** _?" Quicker than a Cornish pixie can leave Neville utterly defenseless, I've attracted the attention of their Imperial Majesties, the Empresses of Gossip: Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil.

Splendid.

Hermione is belatedly realizing where I'm going with this. Darting quick and completely tactless glances at Brown and Patil, she whispers at me, "You know damn well there is no secret. Just shut up!" Their Imperial Majesties hear this and immediately begin twittering. Desperation and panic undulate across Hermione's face. It's sort of funny: her face is an open scroll now that we're not playing poker. Resignedly she says "The bet's off."

Now that gives me an interesting choice. I can leave this all behind me. No Slytherine political issues, no weeping Mother, no honor driven diatribes from Father, no sneering Snape. Well, no more so than usual.

On the other hand…

HERMIONE'S POV

This has not gone at all as planned. Damnit. Who'd have guessed that evil schemes are this hard to keep under control? Well, I've learned my lesson. No more spur of the moment plots. From here on out there will be hours of research and planning that go into every single plot I conceive.

This could have been a lot worse though. At least I retained enough control to stop it by canceling the bet before it span from amusement to fiasco.

"Hermione, that's not going to do it this time. Why do you care what everyone else thinks anyway?" By the Faye, what is he DOING? I called of the bet. He can't be doing this. There has to be some rule against this. This is not allowed, this is not—

"I want the whole world to know. What we have is wonderful, there's no reason to hide it under a bushel. Let it shine for the world Hermione, let it _shine_." Maybe if I close my eyes and count to five the Scary-Sunday-School-Teacher-Draco will disappear and everything will be happy again. Ok: one, two, three…

Damn it all. Why did I feel the need to peek? He's still there. And he's _looking _at me. Why must he do that? He's looking at me as if we really were, well…an _item_. It's craptastically awkward. Of course I suppose making it look like we really are a couple is sort of his objective at this point. Damn him. I glare at him to get my point across.

I think I do rather well, but he continues talking anyway. Now he's using this conciliatory tone.

"Don't be like that Hermione, please. I just don't like this secrecy. You're so amazing, I want everyone to know about us. I want to be able to walk you to your classes, hold your hand and carry your books like any good boyfriend should. I want lounge with you in the evenings by the fire without fearing that someone will discover us."

He's getting really into this. Lavender and Parvati look like they're about to go just _die_, Draco's speech is that completely _romantic_. The fact that it's a good piece of gossip is just a bonus of course. "I want to be the boyfriend you deserve and I can't be that so long as we keep this a secret. I love you Hermione. I love you. And I'm not ashamed of that fact."

At this point he stands up and jumps on top of the table which shakes a bit under his weight. My hopes that it will collapse and thus alleviate my suffering go unfulfilled. The whole class is staring at him as he shouts at the top of his lungs, "I want the whole world to know that I LOVE YOU HERMIONE GRANGER! I want us to be able to be out in the open and free to express how we feel about each other. And for all of you who would judge Hermione and I," He looks around the classroom accusingly, "well FUCK YOU! Hermione and I love each other and that's all that should matter." At this point Professor Vir, who I believe was a classmate of Professor Bins, blinks at Draco blearily and proceeds to walk out of the classroom mumbling something about 'dem crazy youngsters…'

Desperately I try to shout to the now anarchical class, "No, you don't understand, Draco and I aren't together—"

"Hermione did you honestly think that Parvati and I, and the rest of the Gryffindors, would reject you because you're with Draco? How could you not tell us? I am _so _hurt. I _must_ have the details." Lavender smiles at me with a slightly predatory glint in her eyes.

This cannot be going anywhere good.

Now, I am a proud member of the Gryffindor House and I've proved my bravery countless times during the War. However there is a difference between bravery and stupidity. So I do what any Gryffindor with their senses about them does w hen Lavender Brown says 'I _must _have the details.' I sprint for the door as fast as I can.

* * *

Ok, so I've been reading some other authors, and a lot of them have crazy dialogues or review songs at the end, and it came to me that perhaps instead of the pity angle I should do something more productive. So I've ripped off/adapted the epilogue to a Midsummer Night's Dream. If you like it I may do one with Antony's speech from Julius Ceasar. So Enjoy. And Review. Always Review.

If this Authoress hath offended,

Do but this, and all is mended:

But press this blue button down bellow

That your review in truth may show.

And this plot's weak idle theme,

Is it yielding or but a dream?

Readers, do not reprehend:

If you review, I shall mend.

And as I am and Authoress true,

If by luck, you do review,

I may yet be by you inspired

to write until I am batty and tired.

Else this Authoress a liar call,

So Good day unto you all!

Review whether or no we be friends,

And I shall revise and decide amongst ends.


	4. Of Running Hiding and Finding

**The Poker Game**

**Chapter Four: Of Running, Hiding and Finding**

**Disclaimer: **#1 Reason the World Should Go Communist: If the world was communist Harry Potter characters would belong to everyone. However the world at large is not Communist, so the Harry Potter characters don't belong to me.

**AN:** All reviewers have made meextremelyhappy! So much so that I actually updated within a week!

* * *

DRACO'S POV 

All Hail the Conquering Malfoy! I'm evil, I'm sly and I'm pretty damn fly. _And_ I can rhyme, beat that Ms. I-Think-I-Can-Attempt-To-Humiliate-A-Malfoy-And-Then-Run-Away...wait, what? Hermione's a freakin' Gryffindor, why is she running away?

So much for Gryffindor bravery, I knew it was all a sham. Slytherine's clearly the only house that retains some of it's dignity. All the same this is rather bizarre behavior from Hermione, but...

Oh shit. It's not bizarre. It's survival.

Does Fate have nothing better to do than systematically shoot down each and every one of my internal parades? Shouldn't it have some heroes to go harass or something?

Apparantly not.

Brown and Patil, now that Hermione is no longer a possible interrogation victim, are quickly closing in on me. I have no problem with theatrics in front of the class, but facing a grand inquisition, administered by Lavender I-Must-Fucking-Know-All Brown and Parvati Persistan-As-A-Thrice-Damned-Ferret Patil themselves, is quite another cup of butterbeer. If they get their hands on me I won't be let out of the interrogation room for days and by that point I'll be known as the lover boy. Which will require that I make it known that it wasa prank to get back at Potter for something, and then I'll have to go beat up...I think five'd probably do it (...maybe Potter, Weasley, eh, Neville, Finch-Fetchly and whoever I see next) in order to return to the status of the Bad Ass Prince of Slytherine. And whats the point of status if you actually have to _work _for it?

So I egrede (AN: another awesome Latin derivitive meaning to exit) with all possible elegance by jumping gracefully off the table and runing to the door through the chaotic scene playing out amidst me.

Well not quite. Actually, because the World is out to get me, the table collapses just as I'm jumping, so I don't get as much leverage as anticipated. I end up on my belly on the floor, and it takes me a damned long time to disentangle my feet from some ninny's book bag (Is it absolutely necessary to cover bookbags with thousands of pins and buttons? They're a serious safety hazard for Circe's sake). Luckily the dust and the fact that I am bellow eye level confuse Brown, Patil and cohorts long enough for me to stagger up drunkenly and loaf my way to and out the door.

So here I am running through the deserted corridors and I have no plan. I mean I have the basic 'don't get caught by the Evil Gossip Empire's henchmen' plan, but other than that...well to be honest I'm screwed.

This is so sad. I'm a fucking veteran of The War, and here I am, not a year afterwards, and I'm being hunted down by the Feminine Mafia.

This cannot be good for my image.

It hadn't really occurred to me that they might come after _me._ I just sort of assumed when I started my declaration that they'd hassle Hermione for a while, and I'd sit and laugh from a corner. Perhaps further agitate the situation by sending her roses or something.

I clearly severely miscalculated.

I can't go back to my common room as Pansy will pounce on me (I'm sure Brown has already contacted Pansy to make sure that she's ready) and if I don't get out of the open soon I'll be caught. If I sneak into my room after everybody else has gone to sleep I should be fine, but I need somewhere until then.

Ok, so think, think...where can a guy hide from just about everyone? Where does no one ever go?

The LIBRARY! Yes, I am SO brilliant!

I think this may be my best plan yet. Especially since it's a Friday and who goes to the library on a freakin' Friday? I can drop by the kitchens, grab some grub,and quickly get to the library before any of the classes let out. I could hide out in the...arithmancy section! No one knows what the hell that stuff is anyway.

HERMIONE'S POV

It should come as no surprise where I went after The Fiasco inAdvanced Muggle Studies. I know its probably unwise to go to the one place where people will know to find me, but I can't help it. Just sitting here right up against the bookshelf, surrounded bythat slightly must smell unique to antique books,I feel like everything will somehow be alright.

OW! Who the hellcomesto the Arithmancy section of the library on a Friday? And who was it absolutely necessary for them to trip over my legs and in the process kick me in the shins?

Why do I always have to look?

Of all the sections, in all thelibraries in all the world, he trips into mine. Upon reflection this latest incident shouldn't be at all surprising; I am nothing if not consistant and this is completely in keeping with my luck today.

"What are you doing here Granger?" What kind of an idiot is he?

"This is the _library _Draco. And this is _me_." I look at him pointedly, as his legs are still on top of mine and he really needs to move them.

"Right, right. I forgot this was you we were talking about." He (finally) pushes himself into an upright sitting position next to me. While I am grateful that he is no longer half on top of me I do think he's still rather too close. Worse, it looks like he intends to stay.

"Hmmph. Well, now that we've established that, why are_you_ here? So far as I've heard you've entered a library maybe twice in your lifetime:once to research Elmo forAdvanced Muggle Studies, and the other time to try and prove that you didn't exist. Both of these wereratherill fated ventures, so why are you here now?

"The only _good_ reason for going to a library: to escape from thefrightening power of organised and motivated women. And I'll have you know that the existence venture was not 'ill-fated'-the stories about it are totally exagerated. I never technically didn't exist because I do exist. Besides, that was your fault. You and your logic and I-Know-More-About-Existance-Than-You-Do attitude."

"All I told you was that Descartes had proved that if you can think you exist. I didn't tell you to try and prove him wrong. And I _did_ tell you that it didn't get him anywhere particularly good-as I told you he's been stuck on his lone Rock of Knowledge of Self-Existence in the middle of the Oceans of Doubt, just south of Atlantis,for centuries now. _You_ chose to try and prove me wrong, just like you tried to beat me today. And where have youu gotten us? Stuck in the Arithmancy section of the library on a Friday night for fear of being caught by our classmates and eartstwhile friends."

"Look, you're the one who set the parameters of the bet." I look over at him. I can't believe this. He's talking as if this was all _my_ fault. Has he been paying any attention over the course of the last hour?

"Don't try to pin this on me! _You're_ the one who insisted on declaring love for me instead of just doing the Circe-Damned-Macarena. _You're_ the one who insisted on spinning it in a way that would arouse the interest of Brown and Patil. _You're _the one who wouldn't just shut up when I cancelled the bet. This is all _your_ fault! And now you are contaminating my library section with your….vile….faulty Slytheriness…yeah."

That should show him. I refuse to sit here and take the blame for the fact that _he_ destroyed my beautiful, beautiful plot. As I glare at him he has the audacity to glare right back. What is this? What right does he have to glare at me?

"Damn right I'm going to pin this on you! It is, after all, YOUR FAULT! _You _are the one who had to try her hand at plots, who had to try and humiliate me, who had to-"

"I have suffered enough of your insolence!"

At this point I've done listening and after living seven years with guys as my best friends, I know the next step. I tackle Draco, being careful not to overturn any bookshelves. Straddling him I then proceed to set about strangling him. It's rather trickier than I anticipated, but I do think it's possible. This is clearly not what he expected to happen, but that's ok because his complacency gives me time to strangle him.

Sudenly he goes absolutely rigid. And he's looking over my shoulder. That's not right. If someone's strangling you, you should at leat have the decency...

"OH SWEET MERLIN! IT'S TRUE ISN'T IT? YOU'RE FUCKING MALFOY?" Oh crap.

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AN: So I've got another chapter up, and pretty quickly too. Wahoo. 

So, by this point, I think that you know the deal. I entertain with story, you review so that I continue to write. Oh the beautiful cycle of Fanfiction. Also, I would like to thank all of you who indulged in my Shakespeare parody, because it made me happy and I deffinitely thought when i posted it that more people would say 'wtf' to it than would like it. So, now I have yet another parody. At the moment I may feel the need to revise it, so there may be an updated version in a matter of days, but we'll see. Enjoy and Review.

Sonnet 29-Review Style

When in disgrace with fortune's and men's eyes,

I sitwith my laptop and write all night,

And trouble my parents with myheartfelt sighs,

And look at my stories and curse my fate,

wishing them like that one more rich in hope,

or this one, with a thousand reviews at least;

Desiring this auther's art, and that one's scope,

My discontentment like a ravenous beast

leaves me myself almost despising.

Then I read my reviews, and then my state

Like to the lark at bread of day arising

From sullen earth, sings hymns at heaven's gat;

For sweet, sweet reviews such internal wealth brings,

That I wouldn't change my state with JKR or kings.

Oh, and a quote from Descartes: "Lego ergo respondeo." or in English "I read therefore I review." Descartes is nevr wrong-so review!


	5. Of Angst Derived Strength and Gauntlets

**Chapter Five: Of Angst Derived Strength and Gauntlets**

AN: Ok, so I'd like to thank all my of my returning reviewersTay'slilgal, jesska-14,xx-Draco's-Dark-Queen-xx, Arael Moonchild andFardeep. Also, all of you who put me on your list of favorites are TOO COOL FOR WORDS! I'm sorry that this took so long hopefully the next chapter will be sooner forthcoming, but I can't currently make any promises.

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DRACO'S POV

Have I mentioned the fact that I love the ineptness of Gryffindors? I mean here are Potter and Weasley, who walk in on their best friend strangling their enemy. If they were sane they would laugh and perhaps kick said enemy a few times, and then all three of them would skip merrily off.

Of course, 'sane Gryffindor' is a contradiction of terms. So Weasley (who's too in love with Hermione to actually trust her) and Potter (who suffers from an acute hero complex which prevents him from passing up opportunities to present himself as a wronged party) immediately assume that Hermione is getting laid rather than making a decent attempt at homicide. Thus instead of the 'Lets Beat Up Draco Party,' which by all rights ought to be occurring, Weasley's screaming his head off at Hermione, Hermione is screeching right back at Weasley and Potter is standing looking hurt, probably mostly because nobody really cares that he's being anti-social and moody again.

And they say that Slytherine politics are bad.

And so now, while I ought to be running while I still can, I find myself unable to look away from them. It's a morbid fascination that holds me transfixed here; all of this drama is better than those wizard radio soaps Mother secretly listens to.

Yep, drama, that's the only reason why I'm still here.

I'll leave any minute now. Any minute.

Maybe I'll just listen a little longer. Because I feel like it and I have nothing better to do. Right.

"Ronald Weasley it is _none _of your business who I date! And you know what's worse? You don't even seem to have moderately good intentions. You just heard, and mind you this is all _hearsay_, that I was dating Draco—"

"Aha! You called him by his first name! Admit it, you're shagging Malfoy!"

"—that I was dating _Draco,_ and you assumed that it was true. You didn't bother asking me my side of the story. No, you just stomped over here and started shouting at me. And it wasn't because you were concerned that I would get hurt, or because you felt slighted because I'd kept a secret from you. No, you haven't brought up any good objections." At this point she starts toward Ron, poking him hard on the chest at every major point. I do not envy that man. Hermione can be damn vicious and those pokes _hurt_. "You just sound jealous. Well, guess what? I waited for you. I waited and waited, and _you _checked out other girls. Well I've had enough. If Draco makes me happy then you should be happy for me!"

Ron stands looking dumbfounded. And I finally have a chance to do what I've wanted to do since all this began. I point and laugh from my corner.

While Hermione and Weasley are too wrapped up in their own worlds to hear Potter notices and chucks a rather obnoxiously large volume entitled "Arithmancy: a Study" at me. Fortunately there's a reason he's a seeker and not a chaser; the book slams into a bookshelf about four feet to the right of me. Unfortunately this error is not all in all a good thing, as apparently excessive levels of angst can be transferred into superhuman strength. He actually threw the book hard enough to tip the shelf. It wobbles…wobbling…and it's going in the opposite direction! Thank Merlin!

The crash, and successive crashes as one by one all of the bookshelves begin falling in a domino effect, draws Hermione's attention. She shrieks in absolute horror. As the color leaves her face I can't help but wonder if she'll faint.

That worry is superseded by a pissed off and rapidly approaching Madame Pince.

It might just be time to leave.

HERMIONE'S POV

This is horrible, Madame Pince will find us, and then we'll all get yelled at, and then Dumbledore will look all disappointed and…dear God, we'll be expelled! I'm going to be expelled, I'm going to be expelled, I'm….

…being dragged out of the library by my arm. Oww!

Wait, who is dragging me? It can't be Ron or Harry. Is Draco saving my ass? That doesn't sound like him. Why must everyone confuse me? Can't people just be like they're supposed to be and fit into their nice little boxes with their easy to remember labels and…wait. Shouldn't I be glad that Draco's not doing the expected as it sort of, just a bit, helps me?

Damn it all, why must I always be so confused? If God wrote a job description for being human I swear it'd read something like, "Wanted: human beings. Will be dragged around by fate for My amusement. Full time, pay is what you make it. Continuous befuddlement necessary."

Stupid God. Stupid fate. Stupid lake...stupid lake?

Does this mean that I'm safely out of the library! And far, far away from Madame Pince?

Wahoo! I'm not going to be expelled! Draco saved me. That is so weird. _Draco_ saved me from being expelled. Harry and Ron never saved me from being expelled. Come to think of it, they just seemed to come up with ways to _get _me expelled.

"You saved me." I say as I face Draco who is still catching his breathe after the mad dash out of the library. I seem incapable of coming up with anything more than monosyllables.

In this state of drunken euphoria I launch I cannot be held accountable for my actions. This has clearly all just been too much for me. I mean public humiliation, feminine mafia, my attempts at killing Draco, fighting with Ron and Harry and then destroying the library and almost being expelled and then Draco saving me…it's just too much and I'm not thinking clearly.

So I launch myself at the completely unprepared Draco standing across from me. My intention is to hug Draco and thank him for saving me from a fate worse than death but things don't quite go like that. Rather, launching myself at Draco turns out to be unwise as he topples over and I'm pulled down with him. Right on top of him in fact.

Just a little bit awkward.

"I always knew you wanted me, but I never thought that you'd actually jump me Hermione. I'm impressed." I am not amused by his sardonic comment. I am also _not _impressed by his cute semi-evil smirk. Nope, I'm angry. Gerrr. Angry.

"Oh for Merlin's sake Draco. Let's stay in the realm of the plausible." I sneer at him. That should show him.

"Oh, right. I forgot that we were talking about little oh-so-innocent Ms. Hermione Granger who would never have the guts to make a move on a guy. Silly of me to think that you might actually take a risk like that." WHAT?

How dare he! The little…I can't even articulate it. He is the bane of the Earth! How _dare _he say that about me!

And he's so wrong. I could make a move on a guy if I wanted.

Stupid Draco. I'll show him.

So I pick up the gauntlet that he's thrown: I lean down and kiss him.

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Ok, so I don't have any clever review tactics this time. But I am really interested in finding out what you guys think. This chapter was less fluffadelic than most of the others and I would like to know if it worked. Also, I'm more likely to deprive myself of sleep and write the next chapter if I get lots of reviews. SO REVIEW! 


	6. Of Denial and Beginnings

**The Poker Game  
Chapter Six: Of Denial and Beginnings**

**Disclaimer: **The Harry Potter characters emotionally belong to everyone who cares about them, spiritually belong to all those who think about them and legally belong to JK Rowling. Alack for woe, that is not me. All I own is the plot...

**AN: **I answer reviews at the bottom. I know, isn't it exciting? I've never done that before. Just a warning though I only answered ones that seemed to merit some kind of answerif you just said, "NICE!" I totally appreciatethe review, but there isn't a whole lot to say to that.

DRACO'S POV

Things never seem to go as predicted with Hermione.

I was supposed to win at poker, yet I lost to her. I was supposed to leave her humiliated and at the mercy of the Gossip Empire, and instead I got chased down too. I'm supposed to be nonchalant and gloating right now because I manipulated her into kissing me—but, surprise, surprise!—I'm not.

Her lips are still on mine, and it just feels…right. Mystifyingly bizarre, but right. This is how it should be.

Well, maybe not always _just_ like this. After all, creativity is a virtue. But enough time for that later.

After I can't even begin to imagine how long (too short a time to be sure—isn't it funny how time speeds up or slows down conversely according to what you want it to do? There's actually a Magical Theory about that, the Time Is A Sadistic Son Of A Bitch Theorem. It's all the rage at the universities right now) she slowly withdraws her lips, a small sigh on her lips and an utterly contented look gracing her features.

Then she opens her eyes and realizes what just happened.

Needless to say my little euphoric interlude comes to a crashing halt.

Damn it all.

She scrambles off me, stands up and proceeds to hyperventilate. From my sitting position I watch as she paces and works herself into a frenzy.

"Ok, gotta think clearly. I appear to have kissed Malfoy. Possible explanations: I have gone insane, this is a dream, my high-stress sleep-deprived state has led me to hallucinate….can you taste things in hallucinations? This is not good. Maybe the world is ending. Yeah, that could make sense…" Her incoherent mumblings continue although I stop listening.

I don't think I've ever affected someone to quite this extent just by kissing them. I think this is a rather impressive accomplishment.

However at this point a rather more constructive accomplishment would be fetching Hermione back to the World of the Semi-Sane. I would bring her to the World of the Sane, but sadly the World of the Sane doesn't exist, as anyone who is truly sane _will _be ostracized and/or hunted down by the far more numerous near insane masses. Most notable current example: the Feminine Mafia.

As tempting as it is to just kiss her I rather think that that action could have counter productive results. So I go with the less enjoyable 'talk her down' method.

Of course, less enjoyable is a relative term.

HERMIONE'S POV

"Hermione, everything is going to be ok." He says in the tone that adults use on toddlers who are panicking. Stupid Draco. How can he be so calm at a time like this? It's indecent is what it is. And I'm not a child. Or panicking. I am perfectly in control of the situation.

My comments about the end of the world and the Anti-Christ were purely…er…theological. Yes, that's it. They were the result of a deep theological fascination with the end of the world, despite the fact that I'm not actually Christian. But hey, it makes at least as much sense as a Wizarding School celebrating Christmas.

He's still talking in that soothing tone damn him.

And he's trying to sidle closer. Like I wouldn't notice that.

He's only about three feet away now and quickly enclosing. I can't seem to think when he's too close. He needs to be farther away. Now.

It might be time to take action.

"Back foul fiend!" I shriek as I draw my wand. I brandish it and attempt to look menacing.

Rather than being frightened Draco bursts out laughing. This is rather upsetting. I mean, so ok, maybe I do look more like an angry beaver than a dangerous witch, and maybe that line wasn't mine, but hey, he could at least pretend to be afraid.

"I'm sorry Hermione," he gets out between heaving laughs, "but you just can't pull that off. Not even a little bit…" At this point he dissolves into another fit of laughter.

Sometimes I really dislike him.

Abandoning any pretext at being intimidating I place my hands on my hips and glare at him.

"Look, I don't know how you can be so calm about all of this. Aren't just a _little_ bit weirded out that we just kissed? I mean, you are Draco Malfoy and I am Hermione Granger. This isn't supposed to happen. Or has the world gone completely insane?"

Draco slowly straightens and looks me in the eyes. Only I can't seem to hold his gaze, and I look away.

"What do you want me to say? If you'd asked me a few years ago if I thought I'd enjoy hanging out and/or making out with you I would have hexed you and stalked off. So yeah, this whole situation is a little out of the ordinary. But I think you are exaggerating—I bet this wouldn't even make the top twenty for Weirdest Events Ever. I mean, how does this compare to the Crookback Snarky Dragons getting wiped out by twenty time traveling pixies wielding muggle short range nuclear missiles?" Looking at me reproachfully he continues, "That's right. It doesn't." Shaking his head sadly, "You lack perspective Hermione. You gotta take everything in context."

I will admit that next to the untimely demise of the Crookback Snarky Dragons makes my problems look substantially less all-consuming. I know that I should stop freaking out. I know that I'm being melodramatic and indulging in self-pity. But I really don't feel like behaving like the 'mature young woman' I always am. I am tired, stressed out and just I don't feel like being logical or generous right now.

Perhaps more importantly though is if I start being logical and fair about all of this I'll have to admit that I really enjoyed kissing Draco and that he's been right about everything that he's said so far. And once I've admitted those things…

"Draco," He looks at me, a curious look darting in his infamous grey eyes. "if I buy that kissing you isn't _contextually _speaking the end of the world, then what exactly is it?"

He flashes a rakish grin and I know that I've asked the right question.

"I think this could be the beginning of a beautiful scandal." And with that he offers me his arm, which after a momentary hesitation I take, and we begin the walk back to Hogwarts arm in arm.

The End

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AN: Well canyou believe it? It ended. It kinda makes me sad, although when I originally sat down to write I envisioned this as a one shot. I am considering writing a sequal, but I'm not promising anything yet. Keep an eye on my author's page if you're interested and review! Oh yeah, and I'm seriously considering editing this whole story and putting it in the past tense? What do you guys think? 

Fardeep: I was surprised by them kissing that early too, you'd be surprised how little control over this story I actually have...

Dismayed Critic: I'll keep the switching POVs comment in mind for when I edit this, thankx for the reviews

Future Movie Maker: wait, so you like or dislike my plots? And are you asking for subplots, or just other stories or new plots altogether?

Bookworm1214: glad you liked it

Molle-Rulz: wow, gotta say I'm impressed that you knew what defenestrate meant. I'm glad that you like my story so much!

FiRyFaIrY14: I have to say that after oooh cliffy! your review lost me. What are these sheep you speak of? Have they invaded my story without my knowledge? Or are they metaphysical sheep that only truly exist in the dark precepts of your mind...

Miss Ditzy: I'm sorry if Draco is a little OoC, I generally try to keep the characters fairly in character, although I'm usually also working within my interpretation of the characters. I'm aiming for a sort of superficially evil Draco, but I might not even be getting there.

Lady of the Realm: wahoo! It's nice to know that people do appreciate the time I spend editing, and it's a personal pet peeve of mine when authors don't edit.

Potterishotter77: well, I stuck snarky in, just for you. I was planning on putting somewhere actually in the context of a sentence, but then I was trying to come up with a good dragon name and snarky was just too perfect! Thanks! Oh, and consider yourself the first official member of the Feminine Mafia.

Emerald Kiwi: 1. A gauntlet historically speaking is a glove, and when you challenge someone to a duel you throw the gauntlet at their feet and if they pick it up that means they have accepted the challenge. The phrase 'throw a gauntlet' or 'pick up a gauntlet' actually also appear in modern English. There is a wonderful scene form Shakespeare's Richard II about gauntlets. 2. Actually I could totally see Hermione sneering in a snobby intellectual way. Also, remember she's been spending time with Malfoy.


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